The Disney Games
by Baconandeggers
Summary: 'The cold never bothered her, but the warmth radiating from Anna did. What was this heat? What was it doing to her? Why was holding this girl - an enemy - the most pleasant feeling Elsa had ever experienced? ' Hunger Games AU. Eventual Elsanna, not incest; some Kristanna to start. Warning: Violence, character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Disney, or the Hunger Games. **

**A/N: This is Hunhund's wife. After playing beta for Love Lesson 9, I finally felt confident enough to try writing my own fan fiction for the first time since Digimon was super popular. Fanfiction is definitely not my forte; I don't like trying to fit other people's characters into different scenarios/universes, and I'm not a huge fan of posting one chapter at a time. But alas, here is my attempt.**

**Ages of some characters have been changed to suit my needs. This does not follow the Hunger Games universe entirely, just the bits and pieces that I fancied. Open minds, my friends!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

The sun was just over the horizon when Anna woke. It was a perfect sunrise; the light crept across the fields, chasing away the darkness and painting the district in vivid yellow and orange and red. It was like the world was on fire. Anna threw her hand over her face to shield her eyes. She did not wake early to appreciate the beauty, to bask in the dancing flames of a new day.

Today was the Reaping.

She dressed without a word, slipping into a simple green dress she reserved simply for this occasion. It had become faded over time, the vibrant emerald now dull and akin to the needles of the struggling fir trees outside of her house. She tied her hair into two braids and put on her leather boots - the only pair she owned.

Her mother was waiting for her in the kitchen, smiling despite the heavy bags under her eyes. Ever since her father died, Anna had put on a brave face for her mother every day, caring for the older woman and making up where she lacked. It was only on the day of the Reaping that roles reversed, and Gerda forced herself to be a beacon of optimism for her daughter.

"It could skip you again, you know," she chimed, squeezing her daughter's shoulder gently. "Three years now, and it has skipped you every time." Gerda had tears in her eyes and her voice wavered. For all the optimism she tried to muster, the fear was overwhelming.

"And only three more years after today for it to keep skipping me," Anna finished, trying for humour but sending a shot through Gerda's heart that made the tears stream down. The redhead sighed. The day was off to a miserable start.

Unable to shoulder her mother's worry as well as her own, Anna excused herself from the house. The streets were uncharacteristically empty; District 7 was the Capitol's greatest crop producer, and was always bustling with trucks loading and leaving. Anna's sombre mood deepened.

Kristoff was waiting for her outside of his house, and for a moment Anna forgot about the impending doom. She grinned and ran to him, and he swept her up into his arms and twirled her around. She didn't ever need to be a Victor when she had _this_.

They laughed and held each other until the dread smothered the joy. Kristoff took her gently by the shoulders and pushed her back to where he could look her in the eye. "Are you ready?" he asked her softly. She nodded, but she looked to the ground. How could anyone be ready to face their possible death?

They spent the rest of the morning together, and took Kristoff's horse, Sven, out for a ride to the edge of their district. They had discovered a pleasant hill there many years ago, back when they were just friends and not the slightly-more-than-friends stage they lingered in now; it had been their sanctuary then, and it still was.

"At least you only have today to worry about. After today, you're free," she mused, sprawled out on her back and staring intently past the electrified fence of the district border. In the distance, the mysterious North Mountain - the centrepiece of District 8 - scraped against the clouds. "Well, free to be a farmer, anyway, without worrying who will have the chance to kill you this year."

"Hey, none of that talk." Kristoff joined her on the grass and squeezed her hand. Sven wandered next to them, grazing contently. "You'll be free in a couple years too. But you're safe - you haven't been chosen, and you won't be chosen."

Exasperated, Anna sat up and pulled at her braids. The melancholy expression was replaced by panic. "But what if I do, Kristoff? I would never survive! I've tried and tried and tried, but there's nothing I'm really good at! I can't shoot a bow, I can't swing an axe."

"You've got a wicked punch," he interjected with a grin, remembering the feeling of her fist hitting his gut by mistake.

"Yeah, but I would never get close enough to anybody to punch them! I would be dead!" As pessimistic as it sounded, Anna knew she wasn't exaggerating. Her skills were limited to hand-to-hand combat (and even then, very limited) and domestics. She didn't think she would be able to cook a competitor into submission when push came to shove. Or could she….

The blonde man put his arm around her shoulders, and toyed a red braid between his fingers. "I wouldn't let anybody kill you, Anna. Never."

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but the unmistakable sound of a siren drowned out all other sound. Sven spooked and Kristoff quickly grabbed at his reins to calm him. When the siren faded, a calm voice continued. "All members of the District shall report to the Reaping Grounds immediately. The Reaping shall begin within the hour. All of those between the ages of 15 and 21 must report to an Officer to sign in before the hour is up. I repeat, all members…."

Kristoff sighed. "I guess it's time." He hugged her once last time, and Anna's heart sank. It felt like the beginning of the end.

* * *

The Reaping Grounds were situated at the main entrance of the District, and were little more than a temporary podium with a large white screen, and standing room. Dozens of officers dressed all in white, with their faces obscured by helmet visors, stood in a clean line around them, manoeuvring the crowds by merely gesturing with the gleaming weaponry the likes of which none of them could even dream of.

Anna wanted to hate them, how calm they were, as if they did not destroy lives every year; Anna wanted to hate them, but hate was not an emotion she let into her heart lightly. Fear, on the other hand, darted in and out of her like a horsefly, leaving painful patches wherever she let her guard down.

A member of the Capitol (or _Disneyland_, as some mocked) stood at the podium, a microphone raised to her painted lips. She was an alien to the District: she painted her face in colors, and wore clothes with frill and lace that were utterly unpractical, and fancied her hair into monstrous creations with oversized bows and foul-smelling spray. As oddly as the District looked at the woman, she merely looked back with awe and amusement. This was a _game _to them; this wasn't _real_. To the Capitol, the Districts were merely a catalogue of actors, and every year they picked a few to star in their twisted idea of a fairytale, to see who would survive long enough to be dubbed the year's Prince of Princess to be idolized by the frothing fans in their placid Capitol homes.

The Capitol liked to ignore that every year, families lost their beloved daughters and sons to simply put on a_ show._

"Welcome, everyone!" the woman cheered with the static screech of the microphone. The sea of faces in front of her did not shift. "Today marks the Reaping Day for the 74th Annual Disney Games!" The painted woman gave a little clap and paused, waiting for an applause that never came. She cleared her throat and turned her head to the white screen beside her, which began to flicker with light and sound.

On the screen, a man appeared. He looked like any other older man, except clean and proper, with a definitive authoritative posture. His hair had gone white with age, as had his immaculate moustache. He appeared to be looking at the audience, his expression neutral aside from the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Hello, District," his pre-recorded voice said. "I am President Disney. I would like to remind you today of the reason that I began this event so many years ago. Once upon a time, the Districts were in chaos: they did not produce, they did not export; they were killing each other in the streets. They rebelled against each other, and then the Capitol, and thus more people starved, and suffered, and died. The Districts were asked to stop, nicely at first. When they refused, we had to resort to more drastic measures."

"We raised the fences, electrified them. Not just to protect the Capitol, but each individual District as well; you needed guidance, to protect you from yourselves, and that is what we did. We policed you, monitored you, and given you purpose. We told you what had to be done. At first, the Districts refused: you were corralled, but you would not be contained. So just as had been done to others, we did to the Districts - we took your children."

"But we did not take your children outright and slaughter them. No - that would be barbaric, and that is not the Capitol way. We gave each and every District a chance to repent for their errors, by letting their children try and survive in the arena against the other District children. The final standing child was then given a place of privilege in the Capitol, to show the Districts how generous we can be when rewards are warranted."

"And so we are rewarding you today, by giving you this chance to prove that you are better than your ancestors. One male and one female between the ages of 15 and 21 will now be selected as tributes to this honourable event."

The man on the screen paused, and his smiled widened. "May the odds be ever in your favour."

That infernal clapping began again briefly, and then the Capitol woman wiped at her eyes. "Such a gracious thing, President Disney did for the Districts," she said into the microphone. Anna's fists balled in rage, but otherwise the crowd did not shift.

A single Officer marched briskly down the part in the crowd, rising to the stage with two large transparent bowls grasped in either hand. Inside the bowls were tiny folded pieces of paper, each one marked in ink with the names of the hundreds of possible tributes within District 7. Anna felt her mouth go dry as the Capitol woman reached into the first bowl, swirling around the paper pieces until her fingers found one at random.

"First, for the girls, representing District 7 in the 74th Annual Disney Games is…." Her voice was too cheerful. Anna closed her eyes tightly and prayed to whatever God she thought might listen. Don't pick me. Don't pick me. Don't pick me.

"Anna Nyland!"

She opened her eyes, and there were a hundred more looking back at her, pinpointing the rotten apple in the bunch. Those standing closest to her stepped away, clearing a path for her to the main walkway where an Officer stood, waiting. She could feel her body shaking, and then a hand on her shoulder forcing her forward, stumbling past the dozens of relieved girls that didn't have to make the same walk.

When she had regained some semblance of control of herself, she was already standing in front of the Officer, being prodded in her lower back to keep moving. She could make out Kristoff's face easily in the wall of terrified boys, with his unmanly blondeness and heartbroken eyes. Her chest tightened and she wanted to cry.

"Come here, sweet Anna. It's alright," the Capitol woman beckoned, holding out a gloved hand to her. She didn't want to take it but she did, not trusting herself to actually make it without falling at that point. The fear that had been gnawing at her stomach was surprisingly absent, perhaps kind enough to relinquish their assault knowing that she was going to die anyway.

The redhead tried not to look for her mother, but misery attracted company, and soon she found herself watching her mother fall to the ground sobbing while those closest to her could only offer comforting backrubs and soothing murmurs. Today was the day that Anna was allowed to be weak and her mother was supposed to be strong, but seeing her mother crumble under the pressure made her want to rush to her side. _Even if I could though_, Anna thought,_ what would I say? I love you, and thank you for everything. It's time for me to go and die now?_

The Capitol woman reached into the other bowl then and snatched at a piece of paper quickly. "And for the boys, representing District 7 in the 74th Annual Disney Games is Friedri-"

"I volunteer!"

Anna's head snapped to attention. Rushing out from the torrent of children was a waving arm. Now, Anna did cry: Kristoff was waving his arm and walking towards the stage, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The Officers stopped Kristoff at the podium, but with a little wave from the Capitol woman he quickly took his place on the opposite side of her from Anna. He met her eyes only briefly before turning to face the audience. The Capitol woman was shocked, but delighted, turning the microphone to him as soon as she could.

"And you are, sweet boy?"

"I'm Kristoff Ericsson."

"And you wish to…..volunteer?"

"Yes."

The Capitol woman smiled and clapped even more fervently than before. "Splendid! Here you are, District 7! Your tributes!"

The audience was quiet in surprise at Kristoff's outburst; the boy Friedrich Larsson, suspecting his name was the one supposed to be called, was white in shock. Slowly though, a quiet rumble began in the back of the crowd, where Anna's mother had pulled herself to her feet again, and the rumble spread and spread until a steady clap sounded. Anna could not tell if they were clapping just for the sake of routine, or if they were unsure of what else to do, or were merely trying to say goodbye.

"Don't we get to say goodbye first?" Anna asked meekly as a group of Officers began to push and pull them away from the podium and towards the gate. She could not see Kristoff through the throng of them, or even the aggravating Capitol woman with her false sparkle. A voice responded, but she did not know who.

"It's better if you don't."

* * *

How do you say goodbye anyway, knowing that it's forever? Whether she lived or she died, Anna would never see the District again: there would be no reunions with her mother, or her friends; there would be no long days at work with her coworkers, or lazy weekends with Kristoff and Sven on their private hillside.

_Kristoff._

He hadn't looked at her since they left the District. She had said his name, over and over again, but he never answered. He sat on the opposite side of the train car now, his eyes fixated on the world outside of the window, passing by in a blur. Everything today had been a blur.

Sevin (the name of the Capitol woman; Anna wondered if it was truly her name, and not just a codename for her job) wandered between them, offering pastries and beverages they had never heard of and continually rejected. Finally she huffed and sat down in a plush chair across from Anna. She smiled a bit more demurely than before, and held that smile until Anna acknowledged her.

The redhead cleared her throat. "So what happens now?"

That was evidently the question Sevin had been waiting for, because she launched into a tirade. "First when we arrive in the Capitol, you will be shown your personal suites for the next two weeks as you prepare. We will begin measuring you for clothing and have a leisurely dinner together. Tomorrow - oh tomorrow, we will be so busy! First we shall get you dressed, then for lunch we will be showing you off to the sponsors - the stockholders in grains, for District 7 - and then in the evening the rest of the Capitol! There is a grand entrance ceremony where you are introduced to the public and dine with the rest of the tributes afterwards."

Anna's mind was spinning after the first sentence. This was all happening way too fast.

"Then, training begins. We will discuss the rules, the arenas, your opponents - allies, survival tactics. We will hone your skills that you have and find those that you haven't realized yet. At the end of the first week there will be a display of talents to the sponsors and to the president. Bits and pieces of your training will also be broadcast to the public to sate their appetites in the meantime! It's important to make an effort at all times; sponsors may purchase in-game gifts for tributes of their choosing, if they want to see you win badly enough."

Despite having the body of an older woman, Sevin was squealing like a schoolgirl as she spoke. She couldn't even restrict the excitement to just her voice; her whole body shook with anticipation. Anna was just a game pawn to the Capitol woman, to be picked up and placed across the board. She wondered how comfortably Sevin lived working this job; she wondered if there was a bonus if one of her tributes survived. Anna felt sick with rage and disbelief.

"There will be an interview the day before the Games: one final chance to appear every bit the star you are! The Games begin at noon the next day, and not a moment later."

Kristoff appeared next to Sevin then, sinking into the plush chair and looking wildly out of place. His expression had softened; it seemed he had left behind at least some of his brooding at the window. "There's never been an instance where a sponsor sought mercy, and tried to pull a tribute out of the Games, is there?"

Sevin looked at him, bewildered. Then she laughed, a loud and flamboyant sound that grated on Anna's nerves. "Oh heavens, dear Kristoff! Never would a sponsor do that! They bet on these games too, you know. No competition, no money."

Kristoff went back to scowling, but at least he was closer now. Anna reached out to him, and he met her halfway, entwining his larger fingers between her own. Sevin cooed. "How precious! A young love!" Anna chose to ignore the woman (did she know nothing of love? Did anybody in the Capitol? Or were they all so deluded?), concentrating on the feel of his strong grasp. She felt safer, having him there.

The train stopped as silently and smoothly as it started, and they were ushered off by yet another gaggle of anonymous Officers. From the train they were shoved into yet another vehicle, this one more like the trucks that they loaded back home, with black cloth seats and dark windows, except longer and infinitely more luxurious.

It was like entering a completely different world. Anna always knew that the Capitol was different - it was hard to ignore it, after all, when the stark contrasts were forced down your throat, year after year, the same tired propaganda that she wondered if anybody with half a mind was actually supposed to subscribe to. But _this_: the buildings as tall as the North Mountain, the concrete hiding away every inch of grass and nature that was once there, and the _people._ If she thought Sevin was extravagant with her tall, curled white hair and her blue lipstick and her pink parachute ('_dress'_ just didn't encompass all that fabric), then the other people were simply obscene. For all the silver-gray of the metal and cement, everyone was so fantastically colourful it was dizzying. The closest thing Anna had for color in her wardrobe was the frumpy, dull green dress she wore currently.

And the amount of _things_ was just tremendous. There were trucks and trains and cars and motorized bikes and all manner of machinery that was just so futuristic and strange compared to the simple plows and horses they used back home. That was the other thing that startled Anna: there were no animals. No dogs, or cats, or horses. There weren't even birds in the sky, and Anna wondered if insects even existed or if they all choked and died on the sterile, artificial air.

"Do you like the way the Capitol looks?" Sevin asked, trying to engage them. Kristoff, looking even more lacklustre than Anna in a simple gray shirt and trousers, only shrugged.

"It's good to know where all the wealth in the world is, because it most certainly is not in the Districts." Anna's tried to restrain her smile at Kristoff's sarcastic response, but it was futile. She couldn't have said it better herself. Sevin just looked away, seemingly unfazed.

The next time they stopped and were quickly ushered from one venue to the next, Anna hoped it would be the last one. She had been fond of adventures and trying new things, once, but this was just too much, too overwhelming. That, and coupled with the knowledge that she would probably die a horrific and painful death for the sake of sheltered tyrants….

Their 'suite', as Sevin put it, was on the 7th floor of a tall, imposing tower with no neon signs but instead an extensive array of Officers guarding each entry. An Officer even escorted them up the elevator (a disconcerting feeling for them both, with Kristoff even dropping to his knees until they stopped again) and to the door. Sevin opened it without a key, and when they stepped in Anna could hardly believe they left a place like that unlocked, even with all of the added security.

The main room of the suite was larger than her entire home, and with the additional bedrooms and bathrooms it was certainly bigger than both her and Kristoff's homes combined. More food, more decadent than the platter available on the train, was already prepared and waiting. "It's not much," Sevin exclaimed, tottering over to the dinner table. "But it's home for the next two weeks."

Anna blanched. This wasn't home. This was a confusing and terrible dream.

Kristoff was there at her side again, taking her hand, squeezing it firmly. She looked at him dumbly. It didn't take a genius to realize that he had volunteered because of her, probably thinking that he could protect her from whatever they were about to face. She tried not to think about what that meant, what that would mean when the Games started. She focused on his hands again, always so warm and strong and encompassing; she tried very hard not to think about what his hands might feel like if he were dead.

"I think I see some chocolate for dessert," Kristoff whispered, pulling her towards the buffet.

She tried and tried to ignore it, but for the rest of the night his hands felt cold to her.


	2. Chapter 2

Where the day passed too quickly, the night lingered far too long. Kristoff did not remain in his room, for sleep eluded him, and crept instead to Anna's room. He found her wide awake, knees tucked under her chin, staring out the window at the vast expanse of the Capitol. Kristoff curled up against her quietly and rested his cheek against her own. She didn't budge. He followed her gaze out the window, skimming over the endless sleek, identical towers. The sky was blotted out by the massive amount of metal; the only bright twinkling outside came from a lamp on a bedside table, not the stars above. The only mountains to be seen were man-made.

"I've never seen you so quiet." It was only a whisper, but his voice seemed to echo in the too big room. It was unnerving, to have such a large space seem so unoccupied. Even the bed was wrong, too big; Anna worried the pillows might swallow her up and she would never find her way off the mattress.

"I was just thinking," she replied, just as quiet. She leaned into him. He was wrapped around her but she felt chilled to the bone.

"That's dangerous," he chuckled, and she smacked him lightly. She smiled though, for a brief moment, then sighed. "I was just thinking how I wasn't going to have a fairytale ending anymore." It was her turn to chuckle that time, but it was a hollow sound, devoid of mirth.

"Don't say that!" Anna tensed at his raised voice. "Don't say that," he repeated, softer. "I'll keep you safe until the end, and when we are the only two left then they will find it in their hearts to have mercy on us and let us both live."

Anna actually laughed that time. "When did you become the positive one of us?"

He grinned. For a moment, everything felt normal; for a moment, it felt like their first time in a bed together was fueled by love and friendship, not fear.

"But what if that doesn't work? What if they want to make sure one of us dies?"

"Then we'll escape, Anna, just like you always wanted to. We will break out, jump the fences, and hide out in the North Mountain. We'll live there, happy and safe, with Sven and your mother and maybe some kids of our own one day who will never have to know what the Disney Games are."

It was a nice thought, if nothing else.

When they finally slept, they dreamt of a place where they could see the stars.

* * *

Anna could hardly recognize herself. The tailors had started fitting them in their outfits as soon as they woke, preparing them for the busy day of presentation ahead of them. She stood in front of the mirror now, turning this way and that, assessing what the flock of designers had done to her.

Anna couldn't lie: she loved it. The dress she wore was sleeveless, leaving her shoulders bare, and had a black velvet bodice with a flowing emerald green skirt. Around her neck they fixed a black velvet choker, with an actual emerald hanging at her collarbone. They pulled her braids up into a smart bun, holding it together with a length of shimmering ribbon.

Even Kristoff seemed pleased: They had dressed him in a matching suit, dark green on black. He complained when they forced slender, polished shoes onto his feet instead of his clunky boots, but relented when they tossed his boots into the garbage. He didn't have much of a choice after that.

Anna was thrilled. She felt glamorous. Her tailors clapped in joy as she twirled around. "I'm glad we went for simple this year," Sevin stated. "Last year when they dressed everyone according to their District exports, it was awful! Poor Aurora - they dressed her as an ear of corn! It is just too difficult to make wheat look attractive".

Anna remembered Aurora, the tribute from District 7 last year. The corn-dress had been hideous, but it was a welcome sight compared to seeing her strangled in her sleep during the Games. Anna stopped watching after that.

"Now, the lunch with our sponsors is being held at the Arena Tower. The presentation of the tributes later is held just below in the Arena itself. I'm sure you will recognize it from the broadcasts in previous years," Sevin explained as she ushered them into the elevator.

"What are we supposed to say to the sponsors?" Anna asked. The Arena Tower was only minutes away from their building, actually connected to it by a glass walkway several stories above the crowded streets. It was a pleasant enough walk, and this time with only two Officers flanking them instead of a whole troop.

"Oh Anna! You aren't supposed to say anything, sweet girl. They just want to look at you!" Kristoff and Anna exchanged a perturbed look. To them, the Capitol had a strange notion of normalcy.

* * *

The lunch was exactly as Sevin had said it would be. Not once during the occasion did the ten men at the long table talk to them; even Sevin was ignored after introductions were made, the men preferring to pile gluttonous amounts of food into their faces and laugh amongst themselves. It was an uncomfortable experience, to have someone look you in the eye and then talk about you to someone else.

"She's a pretty girl, isn't she?"

"Oh, and he is such a pretty boy, too!"

"Do you think they are related?"

"Heavens no! Blonde and red hair in the same family? How absurd!"

"He could be bleaching it."

"Or she could be coloring hers!"

"The Districts have no idea how to use dye in their hair."

"They can hardly use it on their clothes, the poor things!"

"The designers did a wonderful job with their makeovers. A little eyeshadow and lipstick and they could almost be Capitol children!" They laughed. Kristoff seethed. Sevin just smiled politely.

Anna was baffled. The lunch seemed to serve no purpose but to allow a designated ten individuals the first chance to put the tributes up on a pedestal and begin throwing stones. And once the men had finished mocking them and gorging themselves, a waiter brought a fluted glass of unnaturally blue liquid to each person at the table.

"What is this?" Kristoff asked, recoiling violently after a curious sniff to the beverage.

The gaunt, purple-haired man next to him laughed and downed his glass with a single gulp. "To help you vomit, young boy!"

Kristoff looked aghast. "Why would you want to do that?"

The purple-haired man began feasting on what must have been his fourth entree. "To eat more, of course!"

Anna quickly spit her mouthful of the beverage back into the cup, but she felt sick anyway.

* * *

Later that afternoon, when Anna was sure she could stand without her stomach turning, Sevin brought them into yet another elevator (it dropped them so quickly Anna gagged on rising bile in her throat) that released them into an immense hallway lined by dozens of Officers. Far down the hallway to her left she could hear a roar of cheering and shouting.

"The fans are already lining up outside!" Sevin all but squealed, directing them away from the ruckus, down the hall towards the Arena and the preparation rooms for the tributes.

The further they walked, the more the halls narrowed until they were moving single file down a dimly lit walkway. There was a row of gunmetal gray doors on one side, each emblazoned with a golden number. Sevin stopped them at the appropriate door and led them in.

Their tailors were already standing in the room, waiting, like salivating dogs watching for the scrap of meat to fall to the floor. They were on the two immediately: straightening fabric, combing hair, brushing away crumbs, applying sticky gloss to their lips.

"This is the most exciting part!" Sevin was beside herself. After the designers had manipulated the two to their liking, they dazzled the Capitol woman with extra sparkles in her wild auburn hair. "At this point, the sponsors have begun spreading rumors about what you look like, and what kind of story they imagine you have. They used to broadcast the Reaping to the Capitol, but the sponsors find it much more enjoyable to do it this way."

"So we dress up and gather in lines for the Reaping for nothing?" Kristoff's brow furrowed.

"No, no! It's a tradition, we can't just abandon it!" Sevin clutched her hand over her chest, feigning an injured heart. Anna noted it was the wrong side of her chest. "And it's enjoyable for me! It's wonderful to have everyone standing at attention, trying so hard to be pretty!"

Sevin stepped towards Anna, taking her bare shoulders lightly in her hands. Her hands felt frigid against Anna's skin. "And now you _are_ pretty!" It was a backhanded compliment, but the closest thing she would get, so Anna forced a polite smile.

"Now I'm sure you know what you do next." Sevin gestured to another door (_a million doors had opened recently it seemed, each one locking her deeper and deeper inside_) across from where they had entered. "Out here is the chariots. Don't fall off! It will take you out to the arena, circle around as you are introduced, and then stop in line with the others. Disney will do his speech, and then the chariots will bring you back."

Sevin looked at them expectantly. When they voiced no complaints, she opened the door. "The biggest thing is to smile! Oh, and hold hands! The audience loves that."

The chariot hall was as wide as the the entrance hall, but the lights were much brighter and it was crawling with activity. Sevin had to nudge them both forward they had paused for so long. The roar of people was akin to thunder as the Capitol residents entered the Arena on the other side of a large, overhead; if they were that boisterous just taking their seats, Anna wondered if they would even be able to hear the introductions.

In front of them was the well-known chariots that they had seen every Hunger Games: golden-colored baskets just big enough for two people to stand, trimmed silver around the edges with matching silver wheels. Out the front of the basket were two golden arms that attached them to the 'horse'. Instead of a real animal, the horse was a silvery white skeleton of steel, shaped with a handsomely curved neck but straight legs, and small round rims where hooves should have been. Sven would have snorted at the crude imposter.

Anna moved around it slowly, tracing the sterling etchings on the side with her fingers, while Kristoff stood next to her and Sevin watched from the doorway. "Remarkable creations, aren't they?" Anna whirled around at the voice. A thick swathe of chestnut hair and an impeccable smile greeted her, one gloved hand already extended. "I'm Hans. District 1, in the south. You're from District 7?"

He was handsome, all strong jaw and square posture, with a fitted white blazer over a royal blue uniform. He appeared to be the same age as Kristoff, but with an air of regality - but that was always District 1's persuasion. Anna blushed despite herself and placed her hand in his.

Hans turned her hand in his palm, bowing down until his lips pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. His face lingered near her hand, lifting his head only enough to look her in the eye. He chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes?"

Kristoff cleared his throat rather loudly and pressed his shoulder to Anna's. Hans retreated then, but slowly, deliberately; Hans was not the type to cower in the face of aggression. "Yes, we are from District 7," Kristoff said less than kindly, for Anna seemed to still be tongue-tied. "District 1 has their chariot right at the front, I think. You better get up there; they might leave without you."

Hans laughed, but ducked his head in a polite nod. His gaze only skimmed over the blonde man, fixating on the redhead. "Now we can't have _that_!" He winked at her, and she made an unintelligible mumble. "I'll see you at dinner."

Anna was still waving meekly after Hans even when he was no longer in sight, lost in the shuffle of bodies around them. Kristoff grumbled, and turned to hop onto the chariot. As he lifted his foot though, his own attention was diverted. "Wow."

Anna blinked, her trance fading, and craned her head around to see what had gotten Kristoff's attention.

Gliding towards the single chariot behind them, was perfection. She was a tall woman, taller than Anna, with a long braid draped over one shoulder, the hair so pale it rivaled the silver of the chariot. A few loose tendrils of that hair framed the fine structure of her face, and her skin was as creamy and flawless as her hair.

And that _body_! Her dress left little to the imagination, hugging her svelte frame with a glacial blue fabric. Over her shoulders and arms, and down the length of her dress was a sheer cape, glittering and sparkling like diamonds in the light. Anna did a double-take: they _were_ diamonds, tiny diamonds embedded into the thread, billowing out behind her as she walked. She moved with purpose, and so effortless, a long shapely leg peering out from a slit in the dress with every other step. Anna swallowed hard.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" They startled at the booming speakers overhead. "I welcome you all to the opening ceremony of the 74th annual Disney Games!"

Kristoff quickly climbed into the chariot, helping Anna up next to him. The speakers droned on. "Lets not waste any time! Bring out the tributes from District 1! Hans, and Ursula!"

The great overhead door whined and shook, then began to ascend, letting the natural light and the hollering of the Capitol seep into the hall. As soon as there was room, the first chariot surged forth and out into the arena.

A cold sensation brushed her hand, and she gasped before realizing Kristoff had entwined his fingers with hers. His fingertips brushed over the knuckles that Hans had kissed earlier. She wondered if he thought he could erase Hans' touch from her mind.

"From District 2, Gaston and Belle!"

Anna had once thought it was sweet that tributes were entered as pairs, but upon actually witnessing the cruel reality of the Games for herself, she realized how cruel it truly was. To enter with friends, or family, or lovers...

"District 3, Kocoum and Pocahontas!"

Anna stole a glance at Kristoff. His jaw was tense as he looked ahead. It was no wonder that victors did not return to their Districts afterwards; it was no reward to remain in the Capitol, but the only sensible option. After slaughtering your neighbour, your fellow District member, how could you return home and face their family afterwards? Your own family?

"District 4, Fergus and Merida!"

How could you look at yourself again?

"District 5, Naveen and Tiana!"

Do you try and rationalize it, justify it? Do you tell yourself that it had to be that way, that's just the way that life was? Do you tell yourself that you did the right thing?

"District 6, Flynn and Rapunzel!"

Was it better to just die?

"District 7, Kristoff and Anna!"

She was so preoccupied that she nearly fell backwards when the chariot rolled forward, but fortunately Kristoff held her steady.

The Arena grounds were smaller than she expected. Their chariot strayed right out of the door, and skirted along the stoney walls all the way around. Above the high walls, in rows upon rows, was the population of the Capitol staring down at them: they were close enough to make out the fine details of the outfits the tributes wore, but not close enough to touch.

When their chariot reached the far end of the arena, Anna looked up. A great banner hung down from a high marble podium, depicting a mighty obsidian castle on a snow white backdrop, a cursive 'Disney' scrawled below it. And above the banner stood the man himself, looking straight at her. He did not have the pleasant expression from the video; his mouth was drawn into a deep, tight frown.

The chariot pulled away from the podium quickly, bringing them further along the wall before circling towards the centre of the arena. The other chariots were already lined up, four in the front with two already settled behind them. Their chariot found their place in the back, and stopped smoothly. The audience cheered.

From the front row, Anna caught Hans look back at her, shooting a brief smile in her direction before looking away. Anna blushed and ducked her head before Kristoff could see.

"And finally, from District 8, Olaf and Elsa!"

_Elsa_. The name prickled her skin and she remembered the sashay of those hips as the blonde strode towards the chariot. Anna's blush from before deepened, and this time Kristoff noticed, giving her hand a brief tug. She offered him a sheepish smile.

"Look at that folks! Is that ice? Frost maybe?"

Elsa's chariot was passing in front of the podium, and with a sweep of her dress a thousand glittering droplets streamed down, leaving a trail like shimmering ice behind her.

"I think those are diamonds, folks! Wow! They spared no expense showing us who the real gem is this year, haha!"

Anna couldn't help but look over when Elsa's chariot pulled in next to theirs. A small boy with white hair (Olaf, she assumed) beamed back at her, waving frantically at her with unusually small fists for someone who had to have been at least fifteen. Anna grinned back and gave him a little wave with her free hand. Elsa raised her chin higher, refusing to look.

"Welcome, tributes!" The flamboyant announcer had set his mic aside, letting Disney himself command the attention of everyone in the arena. "74 years ago, I began these Games. They have become as important and vital to our lives as the water we drink or the air we breathe." The audience laughed in agreement. Anna wondered how he could still be alive after so many years.

"Feel honored, tributes! Not everyone has this chance in life. To make you feel even more honored, a new landscape was devised for these Games, with new obstacles, new challenges. We look forward to seeing you at the starting blocks in just under two weeks time! Train hard, tributes. Impress us! Be better than your District ancestors who put you here!"

Applause sounded. Disney waited until the clapping died before closing the ceremony. "May the odds be ever in your favor!"

* * *

"So is this going to be another thing where everyone stuffs their faces and ignores each other? What's the purpose of it?" Kristoff was grumbling, fussing with the top buttons of his shirt; whenever he pried them apart, Sevin would fix them back together.

"The point is to start scoping out allies, dear boy. Leave the buttons be!" Anna giggled as Sevin swatted at his insistent hands.

He grunted, exasperated. "What's the point of allies when we all have to kill each other in the end?"

"So you aren't killed first, of course!"

Anna wasn't as stubborn about the dinner as Kristoff was. She had accepted it as an inevitability, and figured that she might as well enjoy herself. And the truth was, the other tributes were not her enemies yet; they did not have a blade to her throat yet. If they were not her enemies, then that meant they could be her friends.

She wanted to see Hans and Elsa again, and the happy little boy who waved at her.

Where the dinner was being held was not unlike where they had taken lunch, except the mahogany banquet table was much longer to accommodate the extra guests. Some of the other tributes were already seated when they arrived, and others trailed in after them.

Olaf was seated two chairs in from one end of the table, and Anna quickly gravitated towards him. Before she could even ask, he patted an empty chair next to him, a wordless invitation. She accepted it graciously, and Kristoff took the seat on the other side of her.

"So your name is Anna." That voice again, always a surprise but never unpleasant. Hans took the seat directly across from her, and removed the plain white gloves from his hands.

"And _I'm_ Kristoff," the blonde man interjected quickly before a response could reach Anna's lips.

"And I'm Olaf!" The little white-haired boy chimed in with a peculiar chortle, his voice as young and frail as he appeared. His sweet, innocent demeanor was refreshing, and she grinned.

Kristoff was too busy glaring daggers at Hans to even notice. "A lot of victors seem to come from District 1. I guess they breed you to be murderous villains in the south, huh?"

Next to Hans, dark-haired Ursula sneered and laughed dryly, but did not deign to comment. Her fellow District member did not so much as bat an eye, remaining calm and collected where Kristoff raged furiously.

"Not at all, Kristoff. We are just taught reality at a young age, instead of fairytales. We win because we are trained to win, instead of of trained to be farmers."

Anna caught the venom in his words, and she frowned when she looked at him. _What's wrong with being a farmer? What's wrong with not wanting to kill people_?

Hans sighed, and folded his hands in front of him on the table. "I apologize, Anna. I'm afraid your friend got me a little riled up. It wasn't my intention to be cruel; in fact, I aim to be as kind as possible with you."

Anna forgave him in an instant. "R-really?" Kristoff scowled.

"You see Merida and Kocoum down there?" He gestured to the opposite end of the table, and all eyes followed. Districts 3 through 6 were gathered there, exchanging muted words; among them was Merida, a redhead with curls so wild and unruly it put the Capitol women to shame, and Kocoum, an impressively cut man stripped naked down to the waist, with a single feather tied into his long black hair. "I'm not sure about the rest, but I know for a fact that those two are deadly. They seem to have already allied with each other, so it would do us well to ally ourselves against them."

Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear unimpressed but instead seeming more childish than before. "How convenient. They always did say that psychopaths were charming."

"Now hold on there, he didn't mean that!" Anna tried to mediate nervously, throwing her hands up as if doing so could separate the two males any more than the table already did. "You're not like a charming psychopath. I-I mean, you're not a psychopath, I mean, have you ever _met_ one? I mean, you are charming, b-but not _psychopath_ charming. Just wonderful charming. Nice charming. Charming. Uh. Wait. What?"

Olaf chortled again and Ursula rolled her eyes. Anna shrunk in her chair, letting her forehead smack the table.

"Thank you, Anna," Hans replied simply, not calling any unnecessary attention to her blunder, which she was thankful for. His ease and manners made Kristoff despise him more.

Anna lifted her head and her wounded pride. "Allies sounds like a good plan to me though."

Kristoff sputtered, but this time Hans cut him off. "Great! Gaston and Belle are also friendly, so consider them your allies as well."

Four teams against three. There was only one unaccounted for...

Olaf looked at her with wide eyes; like the rest of him, white and pale and nearly translucent, his eyes were such a light shade of blue that they almost seemed clear, like the water of a stream. "Olaf, where is Elsa?"

His happy smile didn't falter. "She doesn't like parties."

Hans seemed unbothered. "Do you think she would like to be allies too?"

"Sure!" Olaf never hesitated, and Anna was rather confident that he didn't even really consider saying no. He was a simple boy, and Anna found her heart sink at the thought that such a joyful boy would be put in harm's way. She wondered what his partner would say.

At least as his ally, she promised herself that she would try and keep him safe.

_If I can even keep myself safe_...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Because I've been asked a lot, no, Elsa does not have powers in this. She would win too easily haha.**

**I can't update as often as my lovely wife and beta, Hunhund, but I'll get them posted within a week from each other. Probably one more chapter until the Games start, enjoy!**

* * *

By the time Anna joined her for breakfast, Sevin was already dressed in her garish outfit for the day, with an over zealous smattering of eyeshadow and a peculiar blue lipstick. The more that Anna looked at her, the more she had to stifle the urge to laugh. Did the Capitol really think _that_ was attractive?

Sevin mistook her smile as genuine, and returned it eagerly, clapping her hands together lightly in that excited way she always did. "Are you as excited as I am, Anna? Today training begins!" Anna stomach dropped; she definitely was not excited.

Kristoff joined them shortly, his jaw still tense and his mood increasingly somber. The dinner last night had gone smoothly, for all except Kristoff: the more he had tried to deflate Hans' confidence, the more his own ego suffered. He had finished the night choking on a rather tenuous chunk of steak, and it was Hans who had to come to his aid.

But nothing irked Kristoff more than seeing Anna fawn over the impossibly flawless man, holding his arm in the tender way that she always held his own, laughing at his jokes, and never tearing his eyes away. And so Kristoff felt more the fool.

It wasn't as if Anna had signed a contract, promising herself to him; they hadn't even said the words boyfriend, or girlfriend, out loud in any official fashion. For all his feelings for her (and hers for him, he swore by it; certainly they did not kiss and touch and talk of _children_ without it meaning something) their love wasn't deemed exclusive yet, so his jealousy played off as childish instead of protective.

As if to compound his guilt, or frustrate him further, Anna reached for his hand across the breakfast table. His head swirled. She squeezed tighter.

"Now, my sweet tributes! Eat up, because training is no walk in the park."

"Is there going to be a guy with a whip drilling us in group exercise?" Anna asked, not entirely joking. Kristoff struggled to swallow his eggs.

"Oh that would be fun! But no, training is mainly self-paced, and self-directed, to prevent anybody from training you with a bias at this point." The two of them nodded; it made sense.

"There will be a wide variety of training equipment for you to utilize. We have the latest in technology to help you with anything from simple resistance and weight training, to holographic battle simulators."

Anna remembered snippets of the broadcasts from the previous year, where a tribute with an arsenal of small throwing daggers darted down a dark hall, glowing holograms appearing and then disappearing once struck by a knife. At least holograms were safer for the tribute than flesh-and-blood humans - after all, they would be dealing with that challenge soon enough.

"You will be judged by those who are betting on the games. You will be scrutinized by the fans. You will be dissected by the other tributes. And you will be preparing for your own survival. Train hard and long! These next days will be your only chance."

Kristoff shoveled more eggs into his mouth. Anna pushed her breakfast aside, untouched.

* * *

The training facilities were as sleek and impeccable as any other room they had seen lately. Everything was so polished and clean, there wasn't a surface that was ill-suited to dine off of.

There were many different stations scattered around the facility, each dedicated to honing a specific skill; even a small library of virtual books existed in one corner, to learn about the myriad of hazards one might face, and the history of the Games and it's victors.

Kristoff felt more at home now; instead of a stuffy suit and stiff collar, he was dressed with form-fitting black outfit of a flexible and breathable material. On his over-sized feet he had lightweight black boots - a suitable replacement for his older ones. Anna was dressed likewise.

Many of the other tributes were already deep into training by the time they arrived, but Anna noted that there were some that loitered aimlessly. Tiana toyed with the knives on display, picking one up only to put it down; and Rapunzel looked outright terrified, nervously pulling at her long hair, braiding it and unbraiding it over and over again.

Kristoff wandered over to an open station with three weapons on display: a war-axe, a mace, and a pick axe. His fingers ghosted over the handle of the first, then the second, before finally wrapping around the third. "Hey Anna, I'm in training to be a miner!" he joked, throwing the hefty tool over his shoulder and posing. Anna laughed heartily.

"It will take more than those little muscles to be a miner, buddy!" Loud and commanding, Gaston propped one leg up on the display stand, a patronizing grin slapped onto his long face. He flexed his bicep, patting it with his other hand for good measure. "Now _these_ are a miner's muscles."

Kristoff pursed his lips and, without breaking eye contact, swung the pickaxe down on the stand. The bevelled tip buried itself deep; the scrape of metal on metal made Anna flinch, and Gaston stumble backwards. Kristoff smirked. "I think my muscles do just fine."

Gaston scoffed. "Sure, if you want to go at it like a Neanderthal." Condescension tainted his words. With a flippant shrug he walked away.

Kristoff grabbed the pickaxe again and tugged on it to loosen it. Kristoff's face fell; it did not budge. He placed both hands on the handle and tugged again. Nothing. With a grunt he put a foot on the stand to brace himself and began pulling. Anna laughed harder. He took a deep breath. "Just...give me a minute..."

Anna figured it was safe enough to leave Kristoff to struggle on his own, and sauntered around the other stations. Kocoum and Pocahontas were sparring with spears in one area, and Anna watched for a moment. They were spectacular, the way they moved, each strike intending to cut and impale; if their opponent was not skilled in melee combat, or not prepared to fight, they would most certainly go down in moments.

Eventually the pair stopped, and the stoic Kocoum looked at her, his lips drawn in a straight line and his eyes furrowed slightly. Anna tensed and quickly shuffled away.

The archery range only had one participant - the fiery Merida, another of the tributes that Anna was told to fear above the others. And she could see *why*; arrow after arrow littered the centre of a bullseye, gathering in a bouquet of fletching and splinters. Merida hardly even seemed to think about aiming, simply notching another arrow immediately after letting loose the previous one. The impressive show of skill made Anna feel giddy.

Curious, and feeling perhaps a bit whimsical, Anna stepped up to the range. A longbow sat on the table with a quiver of arrows next to it; she picked up the bow by the grip, and slid a single arrow free, positioning one inside of the other. It felt awkward and cumbersome to handle both at once, but Anna was determined.

Noticing her company, Merida lowered her bow and leaned back. This was something she _had_ to see.

Anna raised the bow and peered down the length of the arrow to align it with the center of the bullseye. She drew back her arm (it seethed and shook, unused to the deceptive amount of power it took to pull a _wire_), and then exhaled. She let go.

The arrow tilted away and clattered to the floor.

Merida roared with laughter. Anna flushed. "Wha' are ye doin', lass?" the archer drawled in an accent unique to District 4. She had her hands on her hips, but her face was bright and cheerful; she didn't look like an enemy at all.

"I don't think, uh, archery is going to be my thing..." Anna was eager to separate herself from that humiliating attempt, but before she knew it the archer was behind her, pressed to her back, pulling her back into position.

"Ye need ta tilt here a tad," she explained, encircling Anna's wrist with long, calloused fingers, shifting the grip just slightly to the side. "Ye need ta bend yer arm a bit, yeah!" With Merida's strength aiding her, Anna pulled back and loosed an arrow. It missed the bullseye by a landslide, but did find a mark on the edge of the target. Anna threw her hands up and cheered; Merida grinned.

When Anna had calmed she looked at Merida, really _looked_, and noticed there was dread etched in behind the smile. Even though the archer was more skilled than most in that facility, she was _worried_. This time, Anna grabbed her wrist. "Thank you, Merida."

"Yer welcome. I hope yer aim gets better though!" They laughed again, to hide their fear.

* * *

Olaf sat cross-legged on the floor in front of a battle simulator. In form-fitting clothing, he appeared even smaller and thinner than Anna had thought, and the pale of his skin was a glaring contrast to the pitch black fabric. He looked sickly.

But when Olaf saw her, he looked bright and healthy again, waving his small arms enthusiastically to get her attention. Anna never had siblings, but if she did she imagined she would look at them with the same tenderness in her heart as she did with Olaf.

"Hi Anna!"

"Hi Olaf. What are you training for?"

"Oh I'm not training. I'm watching Elsa!"

Inside the simulation booth, six glowing orange apparitions were circled around Elsa, closing in on her with knives in their hands.

Anna's heart hammered in her chest; the woman had been decadent in a diamond dress, but she was absolutely stunning clothed all in tight black. Her platinum hair was still twisted into a long braid, and it danced behind her as she moved. Her stance was open, poised to fight, and in her hands she held a shining metal halberd. The weapon was as long as she was tall, and Anna was amazed that someone like _her_ could wield something like _that_.

The apparitions around Elsa sprung at her, one by one, and with the grace of a dancer she pushed them all back, slitting their bellies open with a swing of her pole arm. More holograms appeared from where the last had fallen, engaging Elsa with spears and swords and war-axes, but it seemed no matter their method of attack they never got past the range of her halberd; Elsa spun around, re-directed and parried, hooking them behind their legs to stab them through the stomach when they tripped.

Anna had never thought something so violent to be so _beautiful_.

The simulation chamber de-activated. Olaf clapped as Elsa exited, and Anna joined him. On instinct, Elsa went to the young boy, putting a hand on top of his head, but stopped suddenly when she finally realized that they weren't alone. Her eyes shot up, and blue met green.

Anna felt electrified. Kristoff was comfortable, and Hans was charming, but _this_ - this was new, different, and indescribable. It was like being lit on fire and enjoying the burn.

"Hi..." Anna whispered pensively.

Elsa blinked, caught off guard. She looked away, uneasy that somebody could look at her so openly for so long, with a hint of resentment or exasperation. She smoothed a lock of Olaf's hair back, her fingers fidgeting in the strands even after it was in place.

"Elsa!" Olaf blurted, filling in the silent space. "This is Anna, the girl from dinner I was telling you about. She's really nice!"

Else dared to peek towards the Anna again, only to find the redhead still staring, slack-jawed and smiling. The blonde looked away quickly again, a furious blush heating her neck. Although she often avoided social interaction, and having to look anybody in the face, she never backed down from the challenge when it was presented; and yet, she could not maintain eye contact with the girl. Her stomach muscles tightened and her head throbbed.

She just killed dozens of virtual enemies. How could looking one gorgeous girl in the eyes be difficult suddenly?

_Gorgeous_...

The heat on her face intensified. Unable to cope with the tension she felt inside herself, Elsa turned to activate another round in the simulator.

"Don't mind her. She's just shy!" Olaf smiled up at the redhead, who was still fixated on Elsa's retreating form. He grinned, then reached out and poked Anna in the hip.

"Huh?! Uh, uhm, sorry Olaf!" A shade of red spread across Anna's own cheeks.

"It's oookay! So, what's your specialty?"

"I don't really have one. I've kindof just been walking around, trying to figure it out. Back home, I'm just..." Anna pursed her lips. "I'm just a baker. I've never had to fight."

"I don't have a specialty either! But I have my big sister, so I know I'll be okay!"

"Sister?" Her eyes strayed towards the blonde again, deep in simulation. She moved like a jungle cat, agile and powerful, whirling her weapon around with one hand, clawing at the holograms that tried to sneak past her defenses. Olaf was in good hands. Anna cleared her throat. "Kristoff said he would protect me, too."

"That's great! Is he your brother?"

"Oh, no, he's-"

"Your boyfriend!"

"Well, he's..." Anna had never put a label to their relationship before. They were more than just friends, certainly, but where they settled on the vast spectrum of human companionship was anybody's guess. "He's very special to me."

Olaf chortled. "I guess you do have a specialty!"

"Yeah," Anna chuckled. "I guess you're right."

* * *

Hans and Gaston were sparring in a station assigned for shortswords. Hans was reserved where Gaston was bold, preferring more defensive tactics to the muscle-man's aggressive jabbing. They both had a certain degree of skill, an amount of finesse, but neither moved as silently and efficiently as Elsa. She was a cobra (striking), and they were only cornsnakes.

Belle was partaking in the station next to the two boys, knelt on the ground surrounded by moss and leaves and twigs. In her palms she rubbed a stick in quick circles, back and forth, into what seemed like a more organized pile of foliage and kindling in front of her. Anna sauntered closer, kneeling down a few feet away.

Belle was relentless; her face was drawn taut in concentration. Anna was sure her hands would be raw and red with the exertion she was putting into spinning that stick.

"Yes!" Belle breathed suddenly. From the pile of tinder, a tendril of smoke uncoiled. Anna gasped. The brunette from District 2 bent low and blew softly on the young ember, to stoke it into a flame. It was a long, painstaking process but within minutes Belle was caring for a small fire.

"My father always told me that creating things and building things would give me joy. It did for him, after all," Belle said, regarding the product of her labor with something like fondness. "He was right."

"I can imagine," Anna commented. They shared a pleasant, friendly look.

Belle sighed and took a thick handful of lush leaves, pressing them into the flame to smother it. "Here they are telling me I have to _destroy_ things. No, not things - _people_. I can't imagine how one could enjoy that."

Anna understood her sentiments exactly, but there were no words to add. Belle had taken them right out of her mouth. She nodded instead.

"Going to burn down the battlegrounds, my Belle?" Gaston said brashly. The pair had sheathed their swords and stood at the edge of Belle's station. Anna saw her roll her eyes.

"Only if it would burn you down with it, Gaston." Her time was steady, neutral, and the boys laughed. Anna, however, did not think the girl was joking.

"You're always so hilarious, Belle!" Gaston looked to the redhead. "Has your friend there figured out his pickaxe yet?" More laughter, grating and sardonic.

Anna scowled. It was one thing to joke to somebody's face where they could defend themselves (or make a fool of themselves), but to have him mock Kristoff behind his back? It prickled the back of her neck. Gaston may be an ally, but she did not trust the vibe she felt with him.

"I'm sure he's doing fine, right Anna?" Hans came to her rescue again, shoving Gaston in the side roughly. The bigger man looked disgruntled, but accepted the abuse without retaliation.

It seemed somebody was always protecting her, or saving her. She didn't know whether to feel flattered, or pathetic. She felt unsure of herself around these people suddenly, which was a disconcerting feeling in itself. At home, she was always the happy one, the confident one, the one who brought everyone together, the bright North Star that everyone followed to lead them back to a joyful state of mind. She felt like she had fallen out of the sky, now a mere mortal surrounded by all these gods.

"I should... probably go check on him," she said, trying to sift the anxiety out of her voice but not completely succeeding. She glanced between Belle and Hans (purposely ignoring Gaston) and they each offered faint smiles, a wordless goodbye.

Kristoff was exactly where she had left him. He was inside of a simulator, tensed and focused. He slashed at an apparition that feinted towards him, but missed when it drifted back out of reach. Kristoff grunted and chased it, giving his pickaxe a hefty overhead swing, driving it down through the apparition's head.

He grinned, triumphant. Anna was proud of him, and for a moment there were butterflies in her stomach, fluttering at the sight. Seeing an opportunity, a hologram appeared behind the man savoring his victory, and stabbed him through the back. Kristoff did not feel any pain, but when he looked down he could see the virtual shortsword pierced through his chest. The simulation deactivated.

"You did great!" Anna cheered as the dejected man joined her.

He shrugged and shook his head sadly. "Not that great." He did not want to dwell on the subject. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Everything. Tried a bit of archery, sortof learned how to make a fire. Talked to the other tributes. I even met the elusive Elsa."

Kristoff laughed and patted her on the back. "Yeah? What was she like?"

Anna sighed, remembering the electricity she felt. Olaf's words came to mind and she couldn't help but chuckle softly. "She's something special alright..."

The butterflies in her stomach would not stop fluttering.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter was written in large part by Hunhund, as I was plagued by a crippling writer's block. Next chapter, the Games begin, so I should have an easier time writing the bloodbath. Wait, what?**

As the first week progressed Kristoff's abilities improved, and no matter where he dug the pickaxe in he found it easier and easier to wrench it free. Anna watched him, elated at his success and morose over her lack thereof. One week down, and she didn't have a specialty to her name.

Anna was witnessing Kristoff's attempt at one-handed wielding when a pained cry shot through the background hum of panting and steel on steel. She scrambled to investigate.

A few of the tributes were crowding around one of the stations, and between them were Kocoum and Pocahontas. The latter hugged herself tightly, while the former knelt next to her, trying to pry her hands away from her front. When Pocahontas finally relented, there was blood in her hands from an oozing wound below her ribcage.

Generally practice makes perfect, but sometimes it just hurts instead.

Kocoum shoved her hands back into place to stem the bleeding that he had caused. He stood abruptly, looking around the room with his arms open. "Can we get some help here? Somebody is hurt!"

The Officers scattered throughout the facility did not move.

Kocoum scoffed, kneeling to Pocahontas' side again.

It wasn't the first time that Anna had seen blood. Farmers cut themselves all the time, on tilling blades or simply on nature itself; and children were always prone to scrapes and bruises themselves. And oftentimes it was the wives and daughters, like Anna herself, that treated their minor injuries.

_Maybe I'm not as ill-prepared for the games as I thought..._

The gash was much more severe than Anna had ever dealt with before, but where others just stood and watched, hesitating, she unceremoniously pushed her way through them all to Pocahontas' side.

"I need gauze, thread, a needle...anything to stitch this!"

One by one the crowd dispersed to gather what she asked for or simply to give her and her patient space.

Olaf was there in the flurry, his small hands laden with cloths, and her fingertips brushed his palm when she retrieved it from him. He felt like ice. "Thanks, Olaf." Anna smiled at the younger boy as she carefully but firmly pressed them to Pocahontas' side.

Kocoum eventually returned with a complete suture kit for Anna to stitch the wound. Pocahontas flinched at the sudden invasion of the needle in her skin, and they both grimaced as Anna drew the thread across the wound, back and forth, closing the gap. One of them trembled at the final pass of the needle, but she was unsure of whom. She completed her handiwork with a wrap of gauze, and let Kocoum and her allies pull Pocahontas away to rest.

"Thank you, Anna," Kocoum said, a notable sincerity in his otherwise gruff voice. Other tributes clapped her on the shoulder as they passed.

"Way ta go, lass!"

"Good job, Anna!"

Anna was ecstatic; a little praise did wonders for the ego, and she was so pleased that she didn't even notice the blood drying on her fingers. Olaf took one of the remaining clean cloths and placed them over her hands, patting gently. Red blossomed on the white material. Kristoff stroked her back.

"Elsa! Did you see that? Anna fixed her right up!"

Her stupor broke, and Anna peered up at the approaching blonde. Where everyone else had been somewhat friendly, or grateful, Elsa wore the same hard expression as before. She gave a small shrug to her brother's prompt and gestured with a single extended hand for him to join her. He hesitated, his eyes apologetic when he glanced away from Anna, and stood to leave.

Anna's heart sank; not even Kristoff's soothing hand on her back could keep her spirits from falling. Despite all the praise and confidence instilled into her, Elsa's one nonchalant response sent her spiralling back into self-doubt. _Why? Why does her opinion even matter to me? _

She mused, and her heart sank further. _Why do any of their opinions even matter? _ She surveyed the area; the tributes recommenced their practices, and even Pocahontas was returning to her feet, spear in hand. Olaf was perched in front of Elsa's favorite simulator.

_All of them are going to die. Do they know that? Are they thinking that right now? When they thanked me, were they actually thinking about how and when they were going to kill me?_

"Anna," Kristoff started, shaking her gently. "Let's go somewhere else. You can relax."

Olaf was twiddling his thumbs where he sat, swaying side to side. She couldn't imagine such a sweet boy, who invited her to eat with him and cleaned blood from her palms, planning a murder. Elsa, she could see, pinpointing everybody's weakness and devising just how to destroy them.

Olaf waved at Elsa in the simulator as she prepared for the holograms to begin spawning. Quickly, almost shyly, the blonde waved back. Anna's mind raced; maybe she couldn't see Elsa plotting murder after all. She couldn't tell, and she needed to know. She shrugged Kristoff off, determined.

"Maybe later," she said, leaving her companion behind. He stared after her, hurt and confused, but did not pursue. He knew better than to get in Anna's way when she was on a mission.

Elsa was ripping holographic arrows out of the air with her halberd, sometimes deflecting two at once. She moved so easily, effortlessly; Anna sat down next to Olaf with the same ease, feeling comfortable to be with him without even asking now.

"Olaf…do you _really _think that what I did was great?" she asked, knees pulled to her chest. She looked at him, her green eyes hopeful.

"Of course, Anna! You helped her!" He didn't even hesitate. His honesty was refreshing.

Anna's self-doubt filtered through. "…I can't help them when we're out there, though. What good is a talent I can't help them with? Save them with?"

"You shouldn't care. You shouldn't care about these people."

Anna startled. Elsa leaned against the simulator door, halberd in hand; she looked like she hardly broke a sweat. Her face was just as austere as before, and it made the hair on Anna's neck prickle. "How can you say that?" she shot back, her brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Easily." Elsa's answer was as fluid and quick as Olaf's, but colder, stinging. Anna was not convinced. How could they be such polar opposites?

"But…what about Olaf? What about your own brother?"

Elsa blinked and motioned as if she were taken aback; she stood straighter, pushing off from the door. "He's not _your _brother; he's not your concern."

"That doesn't mean I don't _care_ about him." Anna narrowed her eyes at the imposing figure she was arguing with, refusing to back down. Elsa's commanding posture changed to one of defensiveness, and she drew in a breath before replying.

"You don't know us. You don't know him, and you don't know me."

"Well," Anna said, a bit more gently. She locked her eyes with Elsa's. "I want to get to know you."

Those tense shoulders sagged, as if defeated, and she looked away brusquely. "…you shouldn't," she mumbled softly. Neither Anna nor Olaf could hear. She didn't wait around to hear Anna speak more, ducking back into the door of the simulator. Her knuckles were white where she gripped her weapon.

"Has she always been like that, Olaf?"

"Like what?" Their fervent exchange seemed not to affect his mood.

"Like such a…an _ice queen_." Anna huffed, pressing her cheek against her knee. She held herself tighter.

Olaf chortled softly. "No, she wasn't. But since I got sick…"

Anna blinked and turned her head to face him. "Wait, what? What do you mean, sick?"

Olaf smiled sadly, but avoided answering her. "Since I got sick," he reiterated, "she hasn't had as much patience for the world."

Anna regarded him for a moment, the realization dawning on her. He had felt so cold earlier.

_Just like Kristoff…_

* * *

The second week was even more intense than the one before. The media had cameras introduced to the training arenas to capture every moment, every move, and every conversation. Tribute interactions became very limited, particularly between allies; they wouldn't want to spoil the fun for the Capitol people, after all.

The big brother presence made Elsa nervous, and all the more elusive. Kristoff on the other hand, used it to his advantage, showcasing himself aggressively to win over potential patronage from the investors.

"The better we look to them, the better our odds, Anna. Anything to help us succeed, I'll do!" he explained after dinner, the night before the infamous interviews that were to take place under the careful execution of Simba Leone. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was changing, or perhaps there were parts of him that she never knew before.

Or perhaps it was her that was changing.

"Sounds like Sevin is rubbing off on you." Anna teased, trying to lighten her own mood.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Kristoff chuckled, slipping his arm around her waist, something he had done so often and so much in all of their years together that it was a second nature. Anna didn't feel as comfortable and extracted herself from him, excusing herself to use the restroom to avoid having to face the fact that she didn't like the feel of his arm around her anymore.

She sighed as she looked herself in the mirror. Try as she might, splashing water on her face would not wake her from this hellish dream, and it did nothing to negate the feelings that swelled in her chest.

_I _do _hate the game…_

* * *

Anna's breakfast had barely been touched; they were sitting at the table with Sevin, discussing the interviews they would have to endure tonight. She would be finding herself back in the same dress she wore for the tribute introduction ceremony, and this was to be their last chance to sell themselves, the last chance for all the bets to be made.

"No offense, Anna dear, but this week you didn't really present yourself as being anything special during training!" Only the strange, tactless Capitol citizens could say such hurtful things without even a trace of venom, their naivety so profound.

"What about what she did for Pocahontas?" Kristoff immediately contended. "That was -"

"Not filmed." Sevin interrupted. "The cameras weren't rolling, so as far as anyone is concerned it didn't happen." She leaned back in her extravagant high backed chair. "If you want my advice, which you should, let's play the 'damsel in distress has a knight of shining armour' card. Young love, doomed romance…it's all so _dramatic_! So _alluring_!"

Anna felt her stomach turn with disgust; she hated the idea of being considered a "damsel in distress" or needing to be babied. She wasn't so dependent, such a burden back in the District. Kristoff's hand on hers snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Makes sense to me. What do you think, Anna?"

"Sure…we have nothing to lose." She scoffed, but subtly enough that Kristoff did not detect the irony laced within her tone.

"Excellent!" Sevin exclaimed. "Then we should rehearse for tonight. Come come, finish up!"

* * *

It was all a blur. The lights, the colours – too many colours, too many lights. Roaring, snickering, jeering and cheering. The audience was like a pack of hungry hyenas, cackling at the host of the 74th Annual Disney Games Coverage show. Simba Leone was an impressively tall man, dressed in garish yellow hues with citrine rhinestones dotted throughout the fabric of his suit. His hair had been over-teased into a thick mane of vermilion, and his teeth were _extra _pearlescent.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you, thank you so much for joining me tonight! We're going to meet and greet this year's tributes, have a little chat with them, and see what we have in store!"

The tributes were gathered in a haphazard line backstage, only a single velvet curtain separating them from the spotlight on the other side. Most stood in their respective pairs, others chatted with their allies, and some – _District 8_ – were absent entirely.

"But first, we have two special guests for you today! You might recognize them from the 72nd , and 73rd Hunger Games! Come out, Beast, and Mulan!"

From the opposite side of the stage where the tributes loitered, the curtain parted to reveal the two introduced individuals. Leading the way was slender Mulan, her luxurious black hair drawn up with ribbons, and behind her was Beast, an exceptionally tall and thick man with a pronounced jaw and deceptively delicate footfalls for his lumbering size. They were each glittering in their own respective costumes, reflecting like disco balls as the lights bounced off the various gems and jewels adorning their bodies.

Beast and Mulan were victors from the previous years. Anna had not seen Mulan's victory, but she had heard that the dark-haired woman had used a katana to slash her final opponent straight through the torso, literally slicing them in half. And the Beast, as they called him; Anna had watched the Beast devolve from Adam on the day of his Reaping, and into the creature that filed down his teeth into sharp points to rip the throats of the other tributes.

Anna could hardly believe that the two people on stage were _victors_: they seemed placid and content, wearing manicured smiles and reciting speeches that did nothing but praise the Games and President Disney. It made her stomach churn and twist; she couldn't decipher whether they were simply enacting their roles, or that they actually _believed_ their own words.

A cacophony of applause rang throughout the theatre when the two victors left stage and exited through the velvet curtain where the tributes waited. As soon as the Beast was visible, Belle bolted from the lineup and ran at him, her reserved nature completely diminished and replaced with a frenzied look on her face. She threw herself at him, pounding on his broad chest with her fists.

"How could you say those things?" she cried, tears leaving streaks in her make-up. "What have they done to you? They've corrupted you, Adam!"

Beast made no move to stop her; he did not lift his arms, or even lower his gaze, simply staring blankly ahead, his eyes glazed over as if hypnotized. It was the Officers that finally rushed to his aid, peeling Belle away from him to let him pass. She struggled against them briefly, resigning to shouting when her attempts proved futile.

"Adam! Adam, please don't forget me! Don't forget who you were, and what we had! If I win, I'll come find you! You hear me? I love you, Adam; I'll come find you!" She sobbed as he disappeared beyond the doors.

Anna's heart seized as she watched the exchange. He hadn't even _looked_ at her when she spoke; it was as if he was nothing but walking dead. _Maybe there is no winning the Games, after all…_

She must have vocalized her thoughts, because Mulan had stopped next to her, peering at her out of the corner of her eye. Anna swallowed hard and leaned closer to the dark-haired woman, speaking quietly. "What happened to him? Why did he act like that?"

Mulan shifted minutely, just enough that Anna could see the crinkle of a frown around her lips. "Did you ever have a doll growing up?"

Anna blinked, perplexed, but nodded.

There was only a whisper before Mulan hurried away. "It's not as much fun _being_ the doll."

Anna stared after the dark woman for a moment, stunned; the more and more she learned of Games and the world of the Capitol, the more she cringed, the more she hated them and all they stood for, all the pain they caused. Her name hissed out of the speakers and drew her attention towards the stage. Simba was standing, ready to receive her.

"Anna! Come on out here!" He boomed. With an apprehensive sigh, she walked out onto the stage. The audience began their applause along with Simba as she looked out towards the crowd, their painted faces and eyes all on her.

"Ooof!" Anna tripped on the bottom of her dress when she was halfway to the chair; Simba's eyes widened and he roared with laughter, the audience joining in raucous chorus. "Oh my gosh, I'm _so _sorry! This is so awkward, I mean not _you're _awkward, Simba, _I'm_ awkward…" More laughter.

"Anna, Anna, Anna…how do you expect to win the Games when you can't even make it to a chair?" He chuckled as he sat, Anna also taking her seat.

"Well Simba, I'm going to kill them with comedy, apparently." Her wit was unintentional but she was thankful for it; at least her subconscious was skilled at something, even if the rest of her wasn't.

"Ah-hahah! I've never seen _that _weapon used before! Mind you, it's how I've won all of _my _awards." He gave the audience an exaggerated wink, causing a new cadence of laughter. "So tell me, Anna. What is your _real _strategy for winning this year's Games?"

Sevin's pre-constructed answers immediately came to the forefront of her mind. "I have my knight in shining armour to save me." She gritted her teeth, abhorring the façade regardless of how true it was.

"Oooh! You're speaking of Kristoff?"

"Yes." She replied simply. The audience cooed.

Simba raised his hands and flapped his wrists in a flamboyant attempt to quell the patrons. "Ah, ever the damsel, eh? Speaking of, he's up next! Thank you, Anna. And good luck out there."

Anna nodded and took her leave, grabbing at the skirt of her dress to be sure to not trip on the way out. As Kristoff entered the spotlight, he gave her a gleaming smile which she only half-heartedly reciprocated as she walked past him. Once beyond the velvet curtain, Elsa came into view. She was dressed in the magnificent crystalline dress from the opening ceremony; Anna could hardly pay attention to Kristoff's interview with Elsa so close to her, focusing on the way it hugged her curved form. Elsa as usual avoided engaging her in any way, wearing her trademark scowl.

"The knight in shining armour himself, Kristoff! With steady feet, no less! Tell me…is she always like that?"

"Ever since I met her." He smirked as he relaxed and mirrored Simba's sprawled posture within his own chair.

"Which was how long ago, exactly?"

"Seems like forever…" He trailed off wistfully. The audience murmured empathetically, and Simba's smile widened.

"Then tell me, Kristoff, did you volunteer for _her _then?"

He nodded as if he hadn't even given it a second thought. "I have to protect my love."

Anna heard _that_ part, and was overcome with conflicting feelings of both adoration and guilt. The feelings of guilt intensified when she shifted her gaze back toward Elsa, but so did the feelings of adoration. Anna's cheeks flared with heat, and she began to wring her hands.

"My my my…young love. Well they do say that love conquers all! A round of applause for Kristoff, everyone!" The applause was thunderous as he exited the stage, joining Anna again. Elsa swept past them both; Kristoff swore he felt a chill.

"And now…the diamond in the rough, Elsa from District 8!"

Like a butterfly breaking free of its cocoon, Elsa transformed into a completely different person; the scowl she wore flipped into a radiant smile. She waved to the crowd, evoking compassion and support almost immediately. Simba took her hands and leaned in to kiss her cheek softly before they took their seats. She played her part perfectly.

"Simba, you look phenomenal!" The tone of her voice was gentle like a summer's breeze, no longer the harsh winter bite.

"And you! You look ravishing, Elsa. Does that dress still have the diamonds?"

"It does," she exclaimed.

"Can you show me?" He looked to the audience. "Do you want to see?" The audience cheered loudly, prompting Elsa to stand and approach the front of the stage.

"Are you ready?" She called to the fans. She stomped her foot, sending what seemed like hundreds of little diamonds cascading to the floor. With a quick twirl of her dress, another batch of stones rained over the front row. Several pairs of eyes widened with wonder at the display, and followed her every move as she returned to her chair.

Simba clapped gleefully, and then leaned forward in his seat. His hands stilled. "Now, Elsa…" His voice lowered. "How did you feel when your brother's name was drawn after yours?"

Anna's full attention was once again fixed upon Elsa. She noticed a slight hesitation in Elsa's eyes at the question, but the blonde remained composed.

"I felt sad at first, but afterwards I thought 'who better to protect him than me?'" The crowd responded with a mixture of cheer and more applause. Anna felt her chest tighten; that was one line that she was sure Elsa had not rehearsed beforehand.

"I wish _I _had a big sister who was that nice to me! Well Elsa, best of luck to you and your brother. Let's bring him out now! Olaf!"

When Elsa returned backstage, Anna was waiting. The rest of the tributes had already been whisked away by fanatical sponsors and reporters alike, and Olaf had just danced out into Simba's presence. Anna stepped in front of her, blocking her path of evasion. Elsa nearly snarled.

"Get out of my way, Anna."

"No." The redhead reached out, wrapping her hand over Elsa's bare shoulder. "I want to talk to you. I want to get to know you."

Elsa recoiled violently, shaking Anna's hand from her. "Go talk to your knight in shining armor," she all but spat, and stormed away with all the danger and beauty of a hurricane.

Anna let her go; she was too busy staring intensely at her hand, fixated on the lines of her palm as if her skin had miraculously turned green.

Elsa had felt so _warm._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the awful wait, as well as this awful chapter. I'm having a lot of problems in real life that have just weighed me down. I am continuing with this story, and hopefully future updates will not take so long. This chapter is partially unbeta'd also. Thank you so much for everyone's support.**

**I can also be found on tumblr now as vonbaconandeggers. Come talk to me!**

* * *

Anna tossed and turned all night. She had begun her sleep curled under Kristoff's large arm, but his weight felt less like comfort as the dark hours dragged on, and more like a chokehold. She felt smothered by his presence, and had to get away.

But even in her own bed she felt smothered, stifled; the severity of the situation threatened to crush her, the steady ticking of the clock a grim reminder that her hours of life were numbered. She shivered and cringed, trying to hide further into the blankets, silently praying to any deity she thought might listen to help her.

_I don't want to die_.

No gods answered. Only silence.

_But I'm going to die, and that's all there is to it_. The thought was on repeat in her mind, pushing her through a roller coaster of emotions, from anger to sorrow, to guilt, denial, and finally acceptance.

_It's okay._ She tried to convince herself, groggy and bloodshot eyes finally opening again to the viciously bright sunlight. _I'm going to die, but it's okay. It's okay. It's okay_.

Her final breakfast with Kristoff and Sevin was somber; even the Capitol woman did not push for conversation, picking at her fruit pieces quietly with a fork, smiling politely down at the slices of grapefruit and watermelon.

Anna's stomach churned, but she forced down as much good as she could before a wave of nausea and uncertainty threatened to bring it all back up. Kristoff ate as if determined to win some type of eating contest, staring down the bacon and eggs like potential enemies.

There would never be another meal again in peace; it would only ever be glaring from overtop the scraps they could forage or manage to hunt. Anna forced down a few extra bites of sausage, spurned.

Her outfit for the Games was splayed out across the plush chair in her room, the dark material an ominous cloud against the clean white of the furniture. She sat on the bed, hands folded in her lap, and stared at it for a long time.

_It's okay._

A tentative knock at the door pulled her from her stupor. She looked to the door to see Kristoff peeking in, already clad in his outfit. He smiled softly at her.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replied quietly, standing up to step towards her outfit. She ran her fingers along one arm, nails leaving faint grooves in the durable material. The lines faded quickly.

"Last to get ready again?" he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Some things never change."

She couldn't help laughing, though perhaps it was from routine, expectation, instead of mirth. Everything had changed, after all.

"I can't change while you're in here," she scolded light-heartedly.

He put his hands up in mock defeat, but didn't exit immediately. "It might be the last time I see you naked, you know." He winked.

Anna huffed, narrowing her eyes at him. "Might be the last time you see at all, you know." The corner of her mouth fluttered in a half-smirk.

He laughed heartily and backed away, closing the door behind him. Her face fell as soon as he was gone. All she was doing now was delaying the inevitable.

_It's okay. It's okay. You're going to die but it's okay._

* * *

Sevin had added a shimmering line of gold to her lips that day, and a fancy broach of flowers to her neck. She was radiant, leading the way from their vehicle back into the familiar Arena.

This time the stands were devoid of an audience, and the only sound was not of applause but of the thunderous rotating of propellers. Resting in the centre of the Arena was a large, winged machine with several whirling fans to lift it from the ground. Anna had seen them periodically flying over the District, but for what reason she did not know.

Sevin stopped at the ramp leading up into the plane, drawing the two of her tributes closer with a hand on their arms. "I'm so proud of you two!" she shouted, trying to rise above the impossibly loud whirring.

An Officer clicked their boots impatiently at the top of the ramp. Sevin drew them closer into a loose, brief hug before pushing them away. She dabbed at her painted eyes with a kerchief as she backed away, raising one hand in a feeble wave. Anna waved back.

They took their seats in the plane, seated on either side of vessel; boys were on one side, and girls sat on the other side, so that those from the same District could look at each other one last time in a neutral setting.

"That's the last of them," an Officer said as Olaf and Elsa boarded the plane, ushering them to their seats before raising the ramp. All the tributes were strapped in, and another Officer went from person to person with a large syringe and a container of metal studs.

"Hold out your arm," the Officer commanded, the feminine voice not unfriendly but with little patience. Shaking, Anna offered her arm. She hissed at the feeling of the abnormally thick needle digging into her skin, and would have yanked herself back if the Officer did not hold her arm so tightly.

"What is that?" she rasped as the needle was pulled out and the Officer moved on to Elsa. The blonde woman did not flinch.

"Trackers," the Officer responded. "So we can monitor you at all times."

Kristoff was busying himself with the injection site, running his hand up and down the length of his arm, experimenting with the feel of having a foreign object under his skin. Anna took the moment to look at Elsa.

Blue met green. Anna caught Elsa glancing at her from the corner of her eye; the blonde woman looked away abruptly, turning her head to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks. Anna smiled to herself.

They had discussed their plans during stolen moments in training; rather, Hans had devised a plan and informed everybody else of it. Anna was told to run in the opposite direction of the Cornucopia, and the rest of her allies would meet her there.

There were no windows in the plane, so the only indication of where they were versus where they were going was the unsettling feeling of rising. Her ears ached at the pressure change, and she could see the other tributes were fairing no better. Elsa still looked away from her, her hands tight on the straps holding her in place. Kristoff grit his teeth and lowered his head, face obscured behind the thick mat of his hair. Hans leaned back with his eyes clenched shut, and his hands knitted together in his lap. Only Olaf seemed at ease, swinging his feet out and beaming at the redhead.

When they landed, it was a whirlwind. Anna felt disoriented as her head adjusted to the lower altitude again, her ears popping painfully as she stood from her seat and was escorted down the ramp into an unremarkable tunnel like all the rest she had encountered as of late.

Two Officers brought her to a room, empty aside from a washroom and a tall glass tube at the opposite end, open and awaiting her. An intercom in the ceiling screeched awake.

"Countdown will begin from two minutes. Be inside the tube at thirty seconds. Late-comers will be terminated. Those that leave their platform before the timer chimes zero will be terminated. Timer is now at one minute fifty seconds."

The same nausea from breakfast returned and she rushed to the bathroom to heave. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself that it was okay, that she was going to die but that was alright, her body did not want to listen. Her chest was tight, and her fingers itched and pulled at her clothes to alleviate the painful pulsing in her chest to no avail.

It wasn't okay.

She was going to die away from her family, away from her home - and probably away from Kristoff, in a gruesome or brutal fashion. And it wasn't okay.

"Fifty seconds remaining. Please commence to the tubes."

She washed her face quickly in the sink, the cold water doing nothing to cool her burning face. She felt sick. She felt terrified.

"Forty seconds."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and rushed out of the washroom towards the tube. It slid shut behind her, muting all sounds but the pounding of her heart and the ragged wisp of her breaths.

"Thirty seconds remaining. Tributes will commence to position."

With a deflating sound, the floor of the tube began to slowly rise, lifting her upwards. The room fell out of site and she was encased in darkness. The terror made her breath hitch.

The darkness was only momentary, and she was lifted into a bright new world, with a familiar blue sky above her and the smell of grass and dirt. The movement finally stopped, settling her on a brushed metal platform. In front of her was the Cornucopia, an open-mouthed shelter lined with weapons of all types and piles of backpacks filled with what Anna could only guess.

All around the Cornucopia in a circle was the sixteen platforms of the tributes, and behind them was trees as far as she could see. She looked over her shoulder and swallowed.

"Ten seconds remaining."

Elsa was poised to bolt, as was Kristoff. Anna pursed her lips. This was the part of the Games that was a bloodbath, and there was Kristoff preparing to leap right into the hellfire. Olaf was already turned around on his platform, staring into the foliage.

"Eight."

Hans was bent forward, his toes dangerously close to the edge of the platform, balancing on the precipice of termination. Ursula was next to him, doing the same.

"Six."

Gaston shared a wordless glance with Hans, pushing the sleeves of his outfit further up his forearms. Belle was straight-backed, looking in Anna's direction; the two of them would be the first to re-group in the forest.

"Four."

The other tributes, those that weren't their allies, were fidgeting on their platforms. Kocoum pulled at the collar of his outfit, snarling when the material did not give away.

"Two."

Rapunzel nervously braided her long blonde hair, a habit that Anna had yet to see her without.

"One."

This was it. The Games were here. Her death was imminent. She closed her eyes.

"Zero!"

Anna leapt off of the platform, nearly tripping on her own feet at the sudden drop. She tucked her chin down and raced towards the treeline, her eyes still clenched shut, trusting her instinct to keep her on a straight path.

The thunder of footsteps was broken by a gargled scream, and Anna faltered, dropping to her knees at the edge of the forest. A pained yowl followed the scream. Anna could not keep her eyes closed anymore. She stood slowly, shaking, and turned around. Nothing prepared her from seeing the infamous bloodbath up close and personal.

Ursula's body slumped to the ground, a single arrow embedded in her throat. The knife in her hand slipped from her grasp as she went limp. In front of where she stood, Fergus was sprawled out on the grass, his throat slashed; Hans stood above him, his preferred sword glistening at the tip with blood. From further within the Cornucopia, an enraged Merida notched another arrow in a hurry.

Gaston and Naveen played cat-and-mouse overtop a large crate at one side of the Cornucopia. Naveen clutched a backpack in his arms, feinting to one side and then the next, attempting to get around the armed man. Gaston wore his confident grin, slapping the broad side of his sword against the crate to scare the other male.

Finally, hope overpowered Naveen's fear, and he tried to dart past his muscled villain. He did not get far though, as Gaston lunged, slashing at Naveen's legs and taking them out from under him. The dark-skinned male fell to the dirt with an agonized howl; he screamed as Gaston advanced on him slowly, scrambling with bloodied and fractured legs to get away. Having taunted his prey enough, the looming swordsman drove the point of his blade through Naveen's gasping mouth, twisting once and then ripping it free in a spray of blood and tender flesh.

Then she saw Kristoff, running towards her with a backpack flung over one should. Hans zig-zagged in the same direction, narrowly dodging Merida's arrows that sliced at his cheek but never quite finding their mark. Anna felt her spirits soar. They were still alive!

Then Kristoff stumbled, and fell, revealing Kocoum close behind, spear raised and ready.

"Kristoff!" Anna screeched, but could not move to help him, her feet cemented to the ground. The scene played in slow motion before her, Kristoff struggling to stand and Kocoum nearly on him. Their eyes locked; Kristoff was devoid of cheer now, drained off his confidence and good hope. He was going to die, and he didn't think it was okay either.

Kocoum made a guttural sound, and drew back his spear arm. Anna wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't.

Kocoum's arm never released, and the spear never impaled. A mighty halberd hooked the powerful man around the throat, pulling him backwards into an ungraceful heap on the ground. Elsa did not loom and taunt like Gaston, pulling back her longarm only to drive it quickly through the man's skull.

"Let's go!" Elsa roared, louder than Anna had ever heard her speak, dislodging her weapon and yanking Kristoff up towards the trees. Her face was hard lines and determination, but as the blonde dragged her lifelong friend past him, Anna could see moisture collecting in the corner's of Elsa eyes, and a faint quiver bothering her bottom lip.

Suddenly Hans was grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her less than gently. He was bleeding from a gash across his cheek that Merida had caused; the redheaded archer seemed to have abandoned chase, for no more arrows rained hell down upon them.

"Anna!" Hans said, searching her for recognition. "You have to move!" His words did not click in her head at first, and he shook her more violently until Anna felt her feet break free from the metaphorical concrete. This time when he ushered her into the forest, she complied.

They ran through the foliage for what seemed to Anna like forever, and when they finally slowed to a walk it seemed like they were no longer in the Games. Insects buzzed past her, and the greenery smelled fresh and natural; there were no shouts of pain or rancor, no consuming metallic scent of life essence. It seemed peaceful.

Loud cannonfire resonated across the landscape, startling birds and the weary tributes. One, two, three, four times; the cannons were the death knell, signifying another fallen tribute.

"Elsa!"

From a dense patch of shrubbery, a white blur burst out at the blonde woman. A brunette woman followed closely behind him.

"Elsa, I was so worried," Olaf sniffled, grasping his sister around the middle with thin, shaking arms. His chest heaved with labored breathing, and his face was slick with sweat. Elsa frowned down at him.

"Are you okay?" she whispered to him, lowering her face to his ear. The rest of the party had stopped, but Anna gravitated closer to the pair, eager to know the state of her newfound little friend.

Olaf mumbled something back, too quiet for even Anna to interpret, and the blonde simply nodded and dropped to one knee. The boy skirted around behind her, clasping his arms around the woman's neck; Elsa looped her one free arm around Olaf's leg, and fluidly stood while pulling him up onto her back. The boy buried his pale face into the nape of her neck and spoke no further.

Hans cleared his throat, the tension of unspoken questions too much. The party of allies - only seven strong now - regarded him quietly. He breathed deep, and continued walking further into the forest.

"We will find a place to rest, preferably out of the elements at least a bit. Then we will examine the contents of that backpack Kristoff got, and make a plan from there. The biggest thing, is we mustn't split up. There is safety in numbers," he explained, carving his own trail through the brush with the occasional swipe of his blade. The others formed a single-file line behind him, trudging carefully in his footprints.

Anna followed behind Kristoff, and put a gentle hand to his shoulder. He flinched, but she felt the anxiety leak from his muscles when he saw the perpetrator. He smiled weakly at her. "I'll need to thank Elsa for saving my butt," he said, glancing past the redhead to the blonde woman behind them.

Despite carrying another person, Elsa seemed comfortable and unburdened, stepping lightly in the dirt. Upon noticing two sets of eyes upon her, she quickly dropped her gaze, adjusting Olaf to sit higher on her back. Anna slowed her pace.

"Is he okay?" she asked once within earshot, and evidently within Elsa's personal bubble judging by the way the blonde's fingers tightened their grip.

"He's fine," Elsa grunted tersely.

Anna sighed lightly. "It's just, he told me that he was sick, and-"

"And you better stop there." Elsa cut her off in nothing short of a growl. Anna's frown deepened and she looked away, almost ashamed.

"Just...thank you for saving Kristoff."

Elsa's mouth opened, and then closed abruptly. When she spoke, it was in a hushed tone out of the corner of her mouth. "He got lucky."

"We can stop here!" Hans shouted from up ahead. He had led them into a cramped clearing, though it was partially sheltered on one side by a raised peak of earth and the gnarled tree roots that twisted through it. One by one they filtered in, sitting down in the bare, cool dirt; the spot was well shaded, but still provided ample routes to escape.

Hans remained standing while they seated themselves. Elsa plopped Olaf gingerly on the ground before leaning on her halberd next to him, ever the image of a guard dog and his flock. Anna sat next to the young boy, slipping her hand over his; his sister's watchful gaze followed every gesture. He felt clammy, and as cold as before; he looked gaunt, and his eyes were sunken. The sweet boy was not how Anna remembered him at all.

Kristoff had started tearing into the backpack he had risked his life to procure, reaching in and groping around in the bottom until he found purchase. He pulled out a small metal canteen first, and then a smaller metal container.

"There's water in this!" Gaston exclaimed, taking the canteen from Kristoff and drinking greedily from it until Hans wrenched it away.

"Ladies first, Gaston," he said, handing it towards Anna. The redhead blushed faintly, and accepted it. Gaston had taken more than his fair share, leaving Anna only a mouthful if she wanted the others to partake as well. That single mouthful, however, was glorious, refilling her, and soothing her parched throat.

"Thank you, Hans," she smiled back at him, before passing the canteen to Olaf; lady or not, the young boy needed the water probably more than anybody. However, Olaf only sipped briefly before passing it to his sister. She urged him to drink more but he declined, crossing his arms over his scrawny chest and putting on a convincing pout. Elsa relented.

Anna stood then, taking the other container from Kristoff. She turned it over in her palms until she found the lip of the lid, grasping it tightly and twisting it open. Inside was a translucent gel that stank of cedar and sterility; the inside of the lid displayed 'great for cuts, burns, and gouges'.

Hans swooped in to investigate. The gash on his cheek had left a trail of red down his face and neck, disappearing beyond the collar of his outfit. "What is it?"

"It's medicine. Like, a kind of ointment." She scooped a generous amount out with two fingers and then looked to the handsome man. "It would probably help your cut."

Hans grinned, and the radiance of his smile rivaled the announcer Simba's row of shining teeth. He squeezed her hand that held the container, and presented the wounded side of his face. "Please, go ahead."

Several sets of eyes watched as she smeared the ointment across his injury. He winced briefly, but his grin insisted; he watched her intently, tracing the outline of her face, the misting of the freckles across her nose. Anna's flush intensified.

In the end, Anna's hand was coated in a thin layer of the gel, tainted red by his blood. It seemed that no matter what she did, she could not escape the fact that her hands would be dirtied by the Games, in one way or another. She wiped her hand clean on the hip of her outfit.

The canteen was empty by the time it made its way through the group, and Kristoff returned it to his pack with the ointment. "We will have to find water, now," he said with a sigh.

Hans nodded in agreement. "In the morning. We should rest while we can; the others are bound to start actively hunting us, soon."

Gaston scoffed. "We should just charge at them now then."

"Merida would pick us off way too easily," Belle reasoned. "Some things have to be won with patience, Gaston. Not brutality."

The black-haired man did not respond, but his jaw tightened. Anna swore she could hear his teeth grinding together, rearing to fight, like a horse chomping at the bit with the urge to run. The thought brought an image of Sven instantly to mind, and the last ride Kristoff and her shared with him on the day of the Reaping. The last relaxed moment she would ever have.

"What do you think, Elsa?" Hans prodded. The blonde woman appeared indifferent, and shrugged to maintain the facade.

"Charging in would end the Games more quickly, though probably not in your favor," she said after a moment of deliberation. "If any of you want to live, we should wait."

Hans nodded, and then planted himself on the trunk of a fallen tree. "Then we wait. Majority rules."

The daylight did not linger long after the decision was made. Feeling safe and secure in their numbers, they dared to build a fire, with Belle crafting it skillfully as she had in training. Anna could see the stars between the leaves of the trees; after two weeks of nothing but metal and concrete, seeing the real sky again, glittering and vast, was a relief. She might still die in a cage, but at least it felt more like home than the Capitol.

Olaf had already fallen asleep, his face pressed up against the side of Elsa's leg. No matter how many times Hans or Kristoff offered, she refused to sit and rest, instead claiming that she would spend the night on guard for all of them. Hans remained awake despite it, and Anna settled in next to him, distancing herself from Kristoff's erratic snores.

The fire felt pleasant, an ideal amount of heat to combat the chill of the night. Anna smiled and stretched her feet out towards it, wiggling her toes near the glowing embers. These normal, placid moments chased away the negative thoughts and hopelessness.

"Careful now," Hans warned quietly. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

She giggled. "That ointment works on burns too."

"That's good, at least. If you get burned, I can treat you."

Anna looked him in the eye and swallowed hard. For all her care for Kristoff, the draw to Hans was unmistakable; he was attractive, and sweet, and at the brink of death he was increasingly tempting. His hand rested next to hers on the log; he was close, so close. It was a good enough moment as any, quiet and intimate, and all she would have to do is lean in...

_Just lean in and kiss her..._

_Wait._ Anna blinked, perplexed at her own thought. _Her?_

She must have looked how she felt, because Hans straightened his posture and cocked a brow at her. "Anna? Is everything okay?"

Her stomach rumbled suddenly, breaking the moment. The two looked at each other and laughed.

Elsa, watching from her perch, released a small sigh.

The night sky lit up with unnatural colors, and a marching tune began playing throughout the forest. Anna's sleeping companions awoke one by one, peering up into the sky where holograms flashed.

The first was of Ursula, with a glaring 'District 1' scrawled below her face. Then came the other fallen tributes: Fergus, Naveen, Kocoum. Once the final face had lingered for a while, the holograms vanished, and the music died, leaving the remaining tributes in a dark silence.

* * *

"President Disney, the tributes have divided into two distinct alliances, but they are on complete opposite sides of the arena."

The stoic man tented his hands in front of him on the table, looking between the various monitors and screens that followed the tributes. Most of them slept by fireside, resting and relaxing. The man scowled.

"Well, don't let them rest. Shove them back together."

"How would you like me to do that, sir?"

President Disney stepped towards the workstation of the Officer, reaching down to a glass ball that served as a cursor. With a flick of his wrist he sent the glass spinning within its cradle, letting the cursor scroll like a hurricane through the options of natural disasters and hazards. When the spinning slowed and then stopped, President Disney regarded the randomized choice with a small grin.

"Like this."

"Very well, sir."


End file.
